


It's A Fucking Art

by Weconqueratdawn



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Non-Sexual Bondage, Shibari, Spacedogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 06:56:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10692048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weconqueratdawn/pseuds/Weconqueratdawn
Summary: Adam asks Nigel if he knows how to tie people up. Nigel misunderstands. Twice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Personal headcanon: Nigel is vanilla af :)
> 
> This fic is finished and the next chapter will be up in a couple of days!

“Nigel, do you know how to tie people up?”

Nigel barely paused. He had learned to trust that Adam's questions always had their own sweet logic. “'Course I do, darlin’.” He pulled his mouth to the side and swiped the razor down the other cheek. “Just give me some duct tape and I'll tie up anyone you want.” 

That was the exact moment the subject of their conversation reared up and hit him in the face. Understanding bloomed bright and sharp and clear. Every muscle in his body stiffened.

He flicked a glance towards Adam in the mirror, who was standing in the doorway, watching Nigel shave. He didn't look upset or worried or anything which could cause Nigel concern.

But still. It was concerning.

Keeping his voice as light as possible, Nigel said, “Who do you need tying up, sweetheart, and what did they do?”

Adam smiled quietly, and shuffled a little closer. “Only me,” he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “I don't _need_ to be tied up, though. I’d just like it if you could.” He frowned and bit his lip. “But not with duct tape. With rope. Can you?”

*

Nigel tried not to gape at the screen, but failed entirely.

“You've done _this_?” he said. “Fucking Christ, Adam. Look at this girl's tits! Like two fucking bruised mangos.”

“It's called a cupcake bra,” Adam said. “And it would be impossible for anyone to do that to me.”

_Kinbaku or shibari,_ Adam had said. _The Japanese art of rope tying._ Some fucking fancy bondage shit, it looked like.

“I thought you said you found it comfortable?” Nigel said. He couldn't stop scrolling through the images. Women dangled, arms secured at odd angles behind their backs, or were left on the floor in ungainly heaps. Flesh bulged in between tightly wound ropes. Some guy even had his dick tied to both his big toes. “How the fuck is any of this comfortable?”

Adam studied the screen carefully. “I haven't done any of those things,” he said. “That's all advanced stuff anyway.”

“Advanced stuff,” Nigel repeated, aware he was scowling. “Right. Yes, a bit too fucking advanced.”

“If you can't, I don't mind,” Adam said. “It's just something I like, sometimes.”

Nigel made an effort to choke back a curse of frustration. Adam’s request was perfectly reasonable, he told himself. It was right that, if he liked this kind of thing, he should ask Nigel to do it for him. It would just help if he knew exactly what he was being asked for. “Baby,” he said, a little softer. “If you haven't done any of this… _advanced stuff_ , could you show me what you have fucking done. And what you do fucking like.”

There wasn't room on the desk chair for them both, so Nigel patted his leg in invitation. Adam looked doubtfully at him but didn't say what Nigel knew he wanted to, which was that the chair wasn't meant for two and it would probably break. Instead, he perched gingerly on Nigel’s knee. Nigel wrapped himself around Adam’s back while he tapped and clicked away.

“This is what I like,” Adam said, leaning back so Nigel could see.

The screen was still populated with lots of pictures of people tied up. But many of them were clothed, and they mainly had their arms or legs bound together, ropes weaving about their bodies in intricate patterns. There were hardly any exposed genitals or rope gags or knots in uncomfortable places. It might not have been how Nigel had expected to spend the afternoon, but it was a lot less weird than it had been five minutes ago.

“Okay then, sweetheart,” Nigel said. “Do you have some rope?”

“But do you know _how_?” Adam persisted.

“Doesn't look too hard,” Nigel said. “A few knots, wind it round a couple of times, easy.”

Adam shook his head firmly. “No.”

“What do you mean 'no’? You wanted to me to and I've said yes. I'm ready when you are, baby.”

“I asked you if you knew how to tie me up. And you don't.”

“But-”

“Shaunee said the proper training was very important. There are lots of risks, people who don't know what they're doing cause injuries. Some serious ones.”

“Who the fuck is Shaunee?”

“The girl who used to tie me up.”

At that point, the suffocating tunnel-vision that Nigel had had to attend a group for nearly swamped him. He breathed through it, like he’d been taught. Then he relaxed his jaw, which had clenched solid. “Some girl used to tie you up, baby?” he said. It came out quite smoothly and not at all strangled with rage.

“Yeah.” Adam scrunched his nose up while he thought. “I think she moved away.”

_Fucking good_ , thought Nigel. _A very fucking long way away if she knows what's good for her._ He leaned round Adam and started clicking at links on the screen. “Injuries? Okay, we don't want those - there's gotta be some videos on this fucking thing, right?”

“No,” Adam said again, in his stubborn voice, the one which meant no argument in the universe would budge him but he was still being very patient about it. “Shaunee said the best way to learn was at a class. With instructors and real people to practice on.”

That was almost too much for Nigel. “There are classes for this? Fucking seriously?”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “I didn't know they taught classes either. I was walking past a room at the community centre and there were these people hanging from the ceiling with ropes. It looked amazing - being suspended in space like that. I just wanted a closer look. But Shaunee came out and talked to me, and that’s how I found out about it.”

“Fucking classes, Adam.” 

Nigel knew he would cheerfully walk over burning hot coals for Adam - any time, any place it was called for. But this was a very different fucking matter entirely.

He would have liked to declare _no fucking way_ and put an end to it. To point out he'd been _very fucking reasonable_ and offered to help, but that he had to draw a line somewhere. To have it noted that classes were not for places for men like Nigel - he hadn't even bothered with them in high school, for fuck’s sake. Why get looked down on by geometry teachers when there were cigarettes to be smoked and girls to be chased? 

Instead he ended up looking into Adam's clear blue eyes, and thought _fucking fuck it._ There was no one on earth like him, and unfortunately for Nigel that sometimes meant trying hard to be a better man. To do the right thing and make him happy. And also, there was Shaunee to consider. _Well, fuck her._ Anything she had done, Nigel would do. And do it fucking better. Even if it killed him.

Or worse. Even if he had to take a class.

“Fine. Just tell me when and where.” Nigel sighed, pulling out a cigarette and stabbing the air with it. “For you, baby,” he said. “For. Fucking. You.”


	2. Chapter 2

There had only been three smoke breaks for the whole day. Leaving the class, Nigel considered lighting two at once, to try and make up for precious lost time and precious lost nicotine. But there was hardly any need. The morning had started a little shaky, but now- Now, he was _fucking elated_.

He had turned up early, much too early, which had been a bad idea. He'd had to skulk around the entrance for twenty minutes, waiting for them to open up. A security guard had even come over to speak to him, eyeing him with open suspicion. Nigel had had to testily explain he was there for a class, and afterward console himself with thoughts of ripping the stupid badge off the guard’s uniform and finding out what a big fucking man he was without it.

The class had taken place in a dance studio, with high ceilings and rows of mirrors. Everyone, apart from Nigel, wore gym clothes, the kind joggers might wear for slurping non-fat cinnamon caramel macchiatos in Starbucks. Mostly they were already in pairs. Nigel hung around close to the door while they talked and laughed and stretched, like it was some kind of yoga bullshit. A couple of them stared at him, too, in a manner reminiscent of the security guard. Unperturbed and unblinking, Nigel stared right back.

He’d been paired up with a volunteer - an easy-going and fairly flamboyant guy called Steve. There had been an uncomfortable moment where Steve and Nigel had looked at each other, both questioning the decisions they’d made which had led them to occupy the same space at the same time. Then Nigel had shrugged and said something about how he might look like a thug but the only reason he was there at all was an angel who went by the name Adam. And after that, they had got along just fine.

Having settled on only one cigarette, Nigel strolled back home, enjoying his already-fond reminiscences of the day. His favourite was easily when he’d tried the first tie, in front of an audience, no less, and the smug macchiato crowd’s superiority had vanished in a puff of smoke.

*

Nigel couldn't wait for the elevator. He took the stairs two at a time, which meant he then had to catch his breath outside the door before going inside. He was either going to have to do that more often or give in and join the smug macchiato crowd at the gym.

The door banged open maybe a little more enthusiastically than he'd intended. He shut it quietly behind him. Adam wasn’t fond of loud noises and that wouldn’t be a good start to a night where he hoped to make Adam very happy indeed.

At this time of day, Adam would usually be watching his videos in the living room. Nigel looked for him there first. As expected, he was sat neatly on the couch, the sun slowly setting behind him.

“Hello, gorgeous.” Nigel dropped his kit bag onto the floor beside the couch. “They said I was a natural, darlin’. _A. Fucking. Natural._ ”

Adam gave him a huge smile, and hugged his knees. “I knew it,” he said. “It seemed like the kind of thing you’d be good at.”

Nigel dropped to his knees and kissed Adam’s cheek. “I suppose it makes sense,” he said, rummaging through the bag. “I've got form in restraining people, after all. But it's good to know how to do it without hurting you. Learned about circulation and all that shit. Never needed to know that stuff before.”

“So you know how to tie me up? Properly?”

Nigel looked at Adam’s hopeful face and felt his heart and pride swell about three sizes. With an airy wave, he said, “Not everything, baby. Like you said, _it's_ _a_ _fucking_ _art_. I've got to practice. But I can do some things. Want me to show you?”

He pulled out a length of jute rope, expertly looped and tied together like he'd been shown earlier that day. Adam nodded, practically beaming. Nigel unravelled the rope, doubled it, and wound it in a simple loose loop around Adam's ankles.

“Now, angel, I like this rope,” Nigel said. “The instructor said I was very confident with it. But if you'd prefer the less scratchy kind, you just have to say.”

“I don't mind,” Adam said. “It's over my clothes anyway.”

Nigel grinned at him, enjoying how patient and still Adam waited, his ankles stuck out in front of him. Over the course of the class, he'd come around to the idea of having a naked, helpless Adam, wound about with rope and unable to move. Even some of the weirder stuff was starting to look good. 

He worked steadily, though maybe not as quickly as he'd have liked. He had to stop halfway through and consult the book he'd begrudgingly bought in preparation for the class. But at the end of it Adam’s legs were bound together by two separate skeins of rope, one at his ankles and one at his knees. Nigel stood back, to consider his handiwork. It looked quite dainty, and there was something nice about how the bands of rope wound over his jeans. Like Nigel had just plucked him off the street, tied him up and carried him away.

Adam was studying his bonds also. “I think I can wriggle out of this one,” he said, tugging with one foot as if about to prove it.

“You won't, though, will you darlin’? You'll stay where I put you.” Nigel stilled him with a hand on his ankle and knelt again, to tighten the loose knot.

Adam's expression changed subtly, like a little bit of peace had settled into place with the rope. When he was done, Nigel smiled and stroked his cheek. 

“You like that, baby?” 

Adam didn’t answer, but sighed happily and nuzzled into his touch, which Nigel took as encouragement.

“Want me to do your arms too?”

“Yes please,” Adam said, so Nigel set to work with another length of rope.

This one he wrapped around the middle of Adam’s chest in orderly lines, looping his biceps firmly to his sides in the process. It was finished with a good strong knot between his shoulderblades. Nigel spent some time ensuring the ends were tucked away tidily, then helped Adam lay on his back across the couch.

“See, sweetheart, there’s lots of different things we could do from here. Whatever you wanted. I might go back, later, once we've had some practice, learn some more advanced stuff, you know. Get really creative with it.”

Adam smiled a lovely smile, secretive and quiet. “This is good for now,” he said. “But I wouldn’t mind that either.”

Nigel grinned back at him, the kind that showed all his teeth and usually made grown men check their exits. But he couldn’t help it, not when Adam looked good enough to eat. His eyes were bright and his cheeks rosy, his hair fluffy from where it had rubbed against the couch. He looked so open and unguarded, completely trusting of Nigel.

He bent over Adam, still smiling broadly. “You can't get away, baby. I could do anything to you now, couldn't I?” 

A little line appeared between Adam’s brows. “But I only have to ask and you'll untie me.”

Nigel held his hands up reassuringly. “Of course, of course, baby. What do you take me for?”

Adam frowned more deeply. “What you said doesn't make sense. Because you can't do anything you want, not if I don’t want you to.”

“I just meant, you know, it's sexy, right? I can do things.” Nigel slid a hand up Adam’s chest and tickled him lightly under his jaw, making him squirm and laugh. “What do you like to do when you're tied up?”

“Um, I usually just relax quietly. Sometimes sleep a little.” Adam shrugged awkwardly within his bonds. “I thought if you did tie me up we could just do this, here. Maybe I could read or watch TV too.”

“Fucking tying you up makes you sleepy?” Nigel said, now beyond confused.

“Yeah,” Adam said. “The pressure feels nice. It’s like my blanket, but more focused. Like, I don’t know, being held.”

“Oh,” Nigel said, rapidly re-evaluating the night he’d had planned. “But what about what’s-her-name? Shaunee?” 

Now it was Adam’s turn to look confused. “She was an instructor. I went to her classes. I told you that.” Then his face fell. “Oh, wait. Nigel… did you think we were going to have sex?”

“Yeah, baby - you saw the pictures! The pictures online!”

Adam gave an experimental full-body wriggle, testing the ropes. It was cute, and also kind of hot. Distantly, Nigel realised his disappointment went far deeper than he would have ever expected. But he’d rather die than let Adam see. 

“I don't think it would work,” Adam said, finally. “How can we have sex if I can't move?”

The kind of sex Adam liked to have was loud, vigorous, and preferably had him on top. “You might have a point, there, angel.”

Nigel rose from his crouch at Adam’s side and sat on the couch, settling Adam’s head against his thigh. He took a smoke from his pocket and lit it, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on Adam’s chest, just below the rope. “Maybe we could find a middle ground, hmmn? But for now, you do whatever you want.”

Adam made a contented noise and closed his eyes. Nigel kept smoking and thinking, until he had to share some of his thoughts. A man couldn’t just ignore when he’d learned new things about himself.

“I could tie just a bit of you up, maybe, so you had some movement. Or I could take off all your clothes, tie you up and tease you until you were desperate, and then untie you?” Nigel cast a shifty glance down at Adam, but he still had his eyes shut. He petted Adam’s hair and pushed onwards with his train of thought. “Could even try some of that weird stuff, if you wanted. Did you see that picture of the guy with his fucking dick wrapped entirely in rope - even his fucking balls-”

Adam shifted against his leg with a little sound.

“Yeah, baby? You like the sound of that?”

“Mmmn,” Adam said. His face was mostly hidden in Nigel’s pants, but what was visible was considerably pinker than usual.

Nigel laughed softly, and thumbed his cheek. “Of course you do, you dirty little thing. Well, maybe next time, eh?” 

And with that comforting thought, Nigel smoked on in silence. The next time he looked down, Adam was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who was enthusiastic about this one - I had *such a good time* writing them so it was nice to know you guys enjoyed it too XD
> 
> As always, [find me on tumblr here](http://weconqueratdawn.tumblr.com/) and also the [tumblr post for this fic is here](http://weconqueratdawn.tumblr.com/post/159901405237/chapter-22-its-a-fucking-art-weconqueratdawn)


End file.
